Something I Was Supposed To Do
by Arisprite
Summary: "It was supposed to be me!" Episode tag for The Darkest Hour part 2. No slash


A/N: I'm joining the episode tag club :) Just a little scene set at the end of episode 4.2, so SPOILERS for that. No slash, and no I do not own Merlin.

"No..."

Merlin's eyes were wide, his mouth still open in denial as the afterimage of Lancelot stepping into the rift faded from his sight. Lancelot...he'd sacrificed himself to save them, to save him. He was de- No, he couldn't be.

Merlin sank to his knees, still staring at the spot where the crack in the world had closed moments before...or was it hours? His head still shook back and forth. His mind was in a maelstrom, raging around, all centred about the single denial of the facts. It could not be.

Merlin's hands began to shake in his lap, and he clenched them together. They didn't stop shaking, but he squeezed harder, until he was gritting his teeth. His whole body was shaking.

How could he do that? Lancelot wasn't the one who was meant to die here!

A twisted knot built up in the back of his throat, a scream, a sob, denial or anger or the need to be sick; he had no idea. He kept his mouth closed a moment longer, before it tore out of him.

A scream of anger, hurt and yes, betrayal.

"Nooo! It was supposed to be me! It was supposed to be me!"

Merlin collapsed forwards, slamming his fists into the stony ground, before resting his forehead on the rock. Water dripped from somewhere, wetting the stones beneath his face. He was crying.

Arthur's words floated to the front of his mind _No man is worth your tears_. To hell with that, Arthur. Merlin shook his head against the ground, feeling the scraping rock against his skull. Lancelot is-was-is worth my tears and much more.

A sob caught his throat, then another, and more tears fell.

Merlin moved his hands from the ground, wrapping them around himself, still bent over and rocking like a child. He felt like a child, he'd just lost his best friend. The only one he could truly be himself around, the one person who knew him for who he really was. What was he supposed to do now without him?

Why did he have to lose _everyone_?

A noise came from behind him, either Arthur or Gwaine stirring. Merlin didn't move. He didn't want to do this, didn't want to be the one to tell Arthur that one of his bests knight, his _best _knight was gone forever. Didn't want to tell Gwaine that his friend was gone. So he knelt, curled, still breathing choked breaths, the tears never ceasing to fall.

Arthur jerked awake, his breathing coming hard as he thought over and over _there was something I was supposed to do. _He couldn't think what at the moment, but it was so important.

He grunted as he rolled over, his head aching a bit, and his shoulders feeling like something massive had grabbed him and wrenched him sideways.

Suddenly the memories all returned, and he jerked upright, peering around. Gwaine was lying motionless still, a few feet from his legs, and turning he saw a sight that made his blood run cold.

Merlin sitting hunched over, and unmoving.

What he'd been trying to do, what Merlin had offered to do all floated through his head for a split second, and he felt a pain go through his heart, so like when Merlin had jumped in the way of that Dorocha for him.

Then, his eye sight cleared further, he'd not even realized it was blurred, and he picked up the movements of Merlin's back, shaking, and his ears heard muffled gasps.

It was then that he realized there had been another person there with them. Where was Lancelot?

Arthur got shakily to his feet, and stumbled over to where Merlin sat, and knelt beside him. Merlin was hugging himself, his face bowed to the ground the side of it streaked with tears, and the sounds of sobs was clearer next to him. Arthur felt a hunk of ice take the place of his lungs. He put a trembling hand to Merlin's shoulder: wanting to comfort, wanting to ask what happened, and where Lancelot was...but all he could do was whisper his servants name.

"Merlin?" Merlin did not react save to turn his head to hide his wet cheeks. Arthur squeezed tighter. "Merlin, what happened? Where's Lancelot?"

At the name Merlin choked, and shook his head. "Gone...'s dead."

Arthur's ice block sank lower, to replace his stomach, and he sat still for minutes, unmoving, and feeling Merlin's shaking shoulders slow as his sobs quieted. Then the ice began to melt, liquefying into a boiling anger. His fingers tightened until Merlin, coming out of his grief winced at the pressure on his shoulder. Arthur snapped.

"_Damn _it!" He cursed, tearing his hands away from Merlin's shoulder, and clenching them, wanting to punch something, wanting to punch Lancelot for doing this to them, for taking his place. "It shouldn't have been him! I was meant to do it! Why didn't it take me?" He ended up punching the floor next to Merlin's leg, while Merlin watched him through watery eyes.

He cried out in anger and pain, as the rocky floor caught up to him.

Then he slumped, staring at the floor. "Why didn't you stop him?" Arthur asked quietly, desperately. Merlin was quiet next to him, but when Arthur peeked up, his face was twisted in sadness, shaking his head back and forth.

Arthur gave a heavy sigh, and stood, head still bowed. Merlin ignored his offered hand, so Arthur went to check on Gwaine, who was now stirring. He knelt, and gripped the man's shoulder as he came to fully.

"Gwaine." Arthur watched as his slightly bleary eyes settled on him.

"Arthur, wha..." Gwaine sat up on his elbows, looking around. His eyes rested on Merlin's grief stricken form, and noticed the lack of the last of their group, and he slumped, seeming to know what had happened.

"Lancelot is dead." Arthur said quietly, his voice solemn. He then stood, speaking louder, and addressing the two others. "He sacrificed himself, for the good of Camelot. He will be honoured." Merlin looked up at the prince, face heartbroken, proud, and a bit angry, but he said nothing. Gwaine's face fell, but he rose, and went over to Merlin. Gwaine spoke a few quiet words to the man, but Merlin said nothing.

They left the Isle, and it was a solemn group that rode back to Camelot. Merlin spoke not a word the whole ride home.


End file.
